Token.

• 19th March 2015
• 16

I am standing in a line of greens and blues.

It’s moving but I know it’s never going to be my turn.

Because although

I am the 3am phone calls, the tear-streaked confessions and angry monologues,

the guardian of secrets, the healer of wounds, the wisest of sages,

I am merely a placeholder until someone better comes along.

I am your crutch, your splint; when someone reaches in, cracks your ribs and breaks your heart,

but only ever a temporary importance, until your wounds scab over and your bones mend.

I am the first person you run to but never the one you choose.

I am the one who fixes you but never good enough to make you stay.

I don’t understand,

why you insist on finding someone who loves you the way I already do,

why you keep looking for what’s already in front of you,

why you would give everyone a chance but me.

I know love is blind but Cupid, did you get her in the eyes?

Is that why she doesn’t see me?

I thought I’d let you know that I am tired,

of being good but not good enough,

of being close but never close enough,

of always being in the blind spot of your love.

Tired of making you my forever when I am your never.

Every time I want to give up playing this game that I cannot win, you keep offering me token after token, asking me to

insert credit try again, insert credit try again, insert credit try again

I thought I’d let you know that I don’t want to play anymore.

_{Let me in or let me go.}